Today, Japan and the Imperial Family face a constitutional crisis, and it directly involves issues of gender. But first there is the question of the imperial family as Japan came out of World War II and experienced foreign occupation.

The Extended Family. Writing about the Imperial Family in Occupied Japan is a challenge. The central figure, of course, was Emperor Hirohito (reign name Showa), 1901-1989, about whom more bad than good has been said, in particular his complicity as a war criminal in Japan’s Asia/Pacific War. Outside Japan, less was known about Empress Nagako (1902-2000), young Crown Prince Akihiko, and six additional surviving children, including four daughters and one son. In addition, Japan’s extended imperial family, as in Britain, included brothers, sisters, cousins, uncles, nephews, and their wives and children. Under the Constitution of 1889, the emperor was a constitutional monarch, but his position had become increasingly exalted with the rise of militarism in the 1930s and the abuse of emperor center nationalism. Under the Imperial Household Law of 1887, only male descendants could inherit the throne, although there had been female emperors in the distant past and one each in the 17th and 18th centuries. The wealth of the Imperial Family was considerable, though Japan was devastated and about to lose its empire. In the case of the Emperor, what should the occupiers do as a matter of sound public policy in furthering the goals of demilitarization, democratization, and punishment? What could the Japanese leaders do to maintain kokutai (national community)—the belief diffused by education and spiritual mobilization that Japan was a sacred community headed by the emperor as national patriarch?

U.S. Wartime Propaganda. During World War II, it was the policy of the U.S. Office of War Information to refrain from lumping Japan’s emperor together with Mussolini and Hitler in official propaganda about totalitarian foes. Caricatures or cartoons of General Tōjō Hideki or of a nondescript military figure were used instead when depicting the trio of enemy leaders. Neither was the emperor given undue respect; the most exalted term, Tennō heika (Revered Child of Heaven, usually rendered Son of Heaven) was deliberately avoided in referring to him. Critics objected to treating the emperor as some kind of “sacred cow,” and the press was less kind than official pronouncements. In public opinion polls in 1945, a high percenrage of Americans was firm in their hatred for the evil emperor. “Hang him,” they said. In preparing guidelines for U.S. initial policy in Occupied Japan, Japan experts in the American government, 1943-45, were less vindictive and separated the institution of the throne from the person of the emperor. They shared a suspicion, even a hope, that Hirohito might be useful in taking Japan out of the war. And they did not want to spark revolution in Japan that might turn to the left.

Unconditional Surrender. At the summit level of the Allies in Cairo, January 1943, President Roosevelt and Prime Minister Churchill had demanded the unconditional surrender of Germany and Japan--a fight to the finish. Assuming the presidency after Roosevelt’s death, Truman repeated the call after the fall of Germany in May 1945 and, though much concerned about U.S. casualties, backed a full-scale invasion of Japan if necessary to force surrender. This doctrine, followed by the decision, July 26, not to guarantee openly the position of the emperor in the Potsdam Declaration (a thirteen point statement of what was in store for defeated Japan), greatly complicated decision making within the Japanese cabinet. Although it was clear that Japan had lost the shooting war and had suffered enormous battlefront and homefront casualties, personal harm to the emperor was unthinkable. Not only did Hirohito have a concrete bunker under the palace grounds in Tokyo, but also a huge underground cavern constructed away from Tokyo by forced labor. In the final exchange of messages in mid-August 1945, the Japanese accepted the Potsdam Declaration after a cabinet meeting in the bunker during which the emperor, so the official story goes, broke a deadlock between four ministers of state who wished to stop the war and four who wished to continue. It is not clear whether the emperor acted on his own or with the advice of his chief councilors. At this point, Tokyo and most large and middle-sized cities had been wracked by fire bombs, two atomic bombs had been dropped, and the Soviet Union had entered the war and was poised to invade Manchuria and Korea. The emperor himself had toured some of the most devastated wards in Tokyo. Crown Prince Akihito was safely in the mountains. After the horrific battle of Okinawa, Americans and the Allies, and certainly ordinary soldiers, were not keen to embark on an invasion of Kyushu or the Tokyo plain. The Japanese military, as the U.S. knew from intercepts, was mobilizing millions for a decisive battle in the southern island; the U.S. also knew from intercepts that the Japanese hoped to use the Soviet Union to broker an end to the war. Instead of military invasion, there would be a largely peaceful entry into Japan.

The Emperor’s Broadcast. The Japanese people were told of the war’s end in the form of a recorded radio message from the emperor, which was broadcast on August 14, 1945. It brought mixed disbelief, relief, sorrow, and anger, but the words did the job of undercutting domestic resistance. The emperor used obscure court language and spoke in a high-pitched voice, made even more difficult to understand by considerable static over the airwaves. But it was not the voice, it was the message—the purport—that was of the essence. Many Japanese heard the broadcast on home radios, often with their less fortunate neighbors who either could not afford a radio of their own or could not repair their sets. Millions of others listened to the broadcast through radio hookups to loudspeakers in public places. Troops overseas picked up the message by shortwave or heard the news from their commanders. Since the speech writers did not use the word, “surrender,” but instead asked the people to “endure the unendurable,” it became necessary for the emperor to follow up with an explicit Surrender Rescript to Japanese Troops on August 21. The official surrender ceremony was held on the battleship S.S. Missouri, Tokyo Bay, September 2, 1945. The government, but not the emperor, participated on board the ship and signed the instrument of surrender; the emperor that day issued a Surrender Rescript. In late September, after the Headquarters of the Supreme Command for the Allied Powers (SCAP) had shifted from Yokohama to Tokyo, the emperor was summoned for a visit with the General, and the famous photograph of the two was taken (actually only one of the three photographs taken was deemed satisfactory for publicity). It was the first of eleven meetings between the General and the Emperor during the Occupation. The emperor would mingle with the people, whereas MacArthur would become a secluded, charismatic figure.

Initial Occupation Policy for Emperor and Throne. At the outset of the Occupation, MacArthur’s guidelines from Washington said that it was up to the Japanese to decide whether or not they wished to retain the throne. The Occupation was to work though the existing government, not necessarily to like it or support it. Secretary of State James Byrnes was quick to tell MacArthur by cable, September 7, that the emperor was subject completely to the control of SCAP. Otherwise, U.S. policy, as it unfolded in Japan, was to destroy the mystique of the throne and to “debunk” the person of the emperor. In addition, there was wide-spread belief within MacArthur’s headquarters, reinforced by the opinion of trusted Japanese, that mistreatment of the person of the emperor would incite rebellion and undo the peaceful occupation. The Emperor was perceived as an icon; he was the “social glue” that held the society together, for better or worse. He had assisted, as Japanese reminded the occupiers, in the peaceful takeover of Japan. Although the Joint Chiefs of Staff soon ordered MacArthur to investigate the emperor for possible war crimes, the general did not trust the Japanese police to reinforce his own occupation troops in handling mass demonstrations. He accepted the view that the emperor acted only on the basis of consensus advice. With tacit support from the Allies, even the Soviet Union, the emperor was not put on trial, and not even interrogated. Also, Hirohito was not allowed to abdicate, though he expressed an interest several times in doing so. The Occupation authorities thought the crown prince was too young for the position and did not have a high opinion of the Emperor’s brothers. Abdication was out of the question. The emperor was manipulated into becoming the Occupation’s chief collaborator. Depending on his audience, MacArthur referred to the emperor as “the first gentleman of Japan” or more crudely as a “Charlie McCarthy,” a wooden dummy of radio broadcast fame operated by ventriloquist Edgar Bergen.

Democratization of the Throne. To promote democratization of the existing Japanese parliamentary system, including the throne, the occupiers insisted that the emperor renounce his so-called divinity, which Hirohito did by rescript on January 1, 1946. At the same time, however, he declared his humanity and thanked the people for wartime sacrifices. Under new handlers, the Emperor donned civilian suits and fedora hat and made several tours among the people, showing his face, seeing theirs, and speaking in normal Japanese. It became a joke to mimic the emperor’s limited social conversation, especially his standard response to whatever he was told: “Ah sō, Ah sō” (um—I follow; go on). Above all, the new constitution replaced imperial sovereignty with popular sovereignty. The emperor became “the symbol of state and the unity of the Japanese people.” He was no longer even the head of state, and his wealth and holdings were greatly reduced. Under the 1947 Imperial Household Law, the imperial household was limited to the emperor’s immediate family and his three brothers. In October, fifty-one remaining princes and peers lost their titles and became commoners. The peerage system created in the Meiji era also came to an end. For Prince Higashikuni, the emperor’s uncle and the first postwar Prime Minister, the loss of status was a hardship. We are told that he was reduced to running a shop. Meantime, the crown prince, in his teens during the Occupation, received lessons in democracy from a British tutor and an American governess in addition to his formal schooling. It was no longer a crime or lese majesté, to demean, caricature, or criticize the emperor.

Gendering the Throne. No provision was made by the Japanese or by the occupiers in the new imperial succession law, 1947, to allow women to inherit the throne. In is unclear to what extent the subject came up for discussion. There were contemporary models: in England, there had been and would be queens; the Dutch government in exile and postwar government were headed by a queen. After 1945, Empress Nagako became more of a public person. During the war, she had been photographed visiting military hospitals. In early peacetime, she was frequently photographed, either traveling with the Emperor or enjoying public events—an art show, perhaps, or a sports event. On her own, she attended a Kabuki play. She was honorary president of the Japanese Red Cross and visited orphanages and hospitals. The English language newspaper, the Nippon Times, reported on February 24, 1946, for example: “Her Majesty Walks Among Ailing and Poor at Saiseikai Hospital and Futaba Orphanage,” a journey she made in a “black Mercedes Benz limousine marked with the Imperial Golden Chrysanthemum.” The Empress was as likely to wear Western dress in public as a kimono. She remained modest and deferential toward her husband in public. Numerous photos exist of the emperor, empress, and their children enjoying family life in the palace. One of the most loving shots of the imperial couple, taken in 1947 during a vacation, is of the Empress gently brushing stray hair from the Emperor’s forehead. It may have reminded viewers that from the beginning, in 1924, their marriage was said to be a love match. Occupation gossip had it that the Empress read the Bible and was heard singing a Christian hymn or two. However, the hoped-for conversion of the imperial family, which stood at the apex of Shinto rites, did not occur and was never seriously considered.

There were other legal restrictions on imperial status. When three of the five emperor’s daughters (Akihito’s sisters) married commoners, they suffered loss of their titles and the surnames of their husbands. Hirohito’s sister-in-law, Princess Chichibu, retained her title when her husband, the emperor’s brother died, and remained in the inner circle. She was a high-born commoner who, as a girl, had been educated in Washington, D.C., where her father was ambassador, and adopted into the aristocracy prior to marrying Prince Chichibu. After the war, she made social rounds, supported charities, and was on hand to welcome Western dignitaries. In 1953, after the Occupation had ended, she greeted one of the world’s most famous woman, Eleanor Roosevelt, and later visited England and Europe in a much-publicized tour by the Japanese press. She also publicly supported the emancipation of Japanese women.

The Commoner Touch. The Imperial Household Agency, which controlled the rounds of the emperor and the education of the crown prince, remained extremely conservative. In the aftermath of the Occupation, a measure of mystique was restored to the throne. Hirohito still did not abdicate but instead reigned to 1989, losing the opportunity to assume moral responsibility for the war and atrocities. But he never again appeared in public in military uniform. Photos emphasized his observance of agricultural ritual, his home life, and his expertise in marine biology. Self-censorship rather than overt or formal censorship was the rule in covering the palace. To demean the emperor or his family was taboo. Nevertheless, Kurihara Sadako mocked the emperor in her poetry, 1952. Future Nobel Laureate Ōe Kenzaburō made sly fun of his speech habits in 1964. Atomic bomb painters, the Marukis, said the emperor was in hell in a 1986 American film documentary on the atomic bomb; for good measure they included Hitler and Truman—and all of us.

On the other hand, Crown Prince Akihito (b. December 1933), who had grown up during war and occupation, was educated with other boys in a privileged high school and by special tutors. He entered Gakushūin University in 1952 and the following year, at age twenty, made a successful overseas tour to Europe and the U.S. (his father had visited Europe at age nineteen). In 1959, with the support of his father but objections from his mother, Crown Prince Akihito married a commoner, Shoda Michiko (b. October 1934). She was the daughter of a wealthy businessman with family connections to the academic world, but a commoner nevertheless. It was widely reported in Japan’s mass media that the two had met on a tennis court, allowing Japanese to fantasize that it was a postwar love match. Michiko, too, was a child of war and occupation. Back in the fourth grade, her elementary education in wartime Tokyo had been temporarily disrupted. During the Occupation, Michiko resumed studies at her former Tokyo school and entered Sacred Heart High School. In 1957, she was valedictorian of her graduation class at Sacred Heart University, where she had majored in English Literature. The couple’s marriage procession by open coach through the streets of Tokyo in 1959 was carried on television. Time, an American weekly magazine, had put a portrait of Crown Princess-to-be-Michiko on its cover in March to highlight a photo essay on the changing status of Japanese women. The overall message: Japan was becoming egalitarian. Behind the scenes, however, Empress Nagako would, according to rumor, make life miserable for Michiko, who suffered a breakdown in the 1960s.

A Woman on the Japanese Throne? To shift to the present constitutional crisis, Akihito has been the Heisei emperor since January 1989, when Hirohito died. He and Empress Michiko had personally raised their three children, two sons and a daughter, breaking with the custom of sending imperial children away to the care of others. Prince Naruhito (Prince Hiro) studied at Cambridge, in England. While he delayed marriage, his younger brother, Prince Fumihito, fell in love with a Japanese commoner, Kawashima Kiko, daughter of a university professor. They married in 1990 and had two children—both girls. Naruhito’s choice for a bride, and it took considerably persuasion to get her consent in 1993, was Owada Masako, daughter of a diplomat, graduate of an American high school and Harvard University, a post-graduate student at Oxford University, and a civil servant on the career track in the Foreign Ministry. They had great difficulty in conceiving a child. After a miscarriage, a daughter, Aiko, was born in February 2001. Just as Masako’s mother-in-law, Empress Michiko, had apparently experienced depression, the Crown Princess too was worn down, possibly exasperated and frustrated by the demands placed upon her and denial of her individuality. She temporarily withdrew from public life but has recently returned to a limited role. She does not appear likely to bear another child, but if so there is no guarantee it would be a boy. Emperor Akihito, Crown Prince Naruhito, and the Japanese public all seem supportive of her as a person and of a change in the succession law. Perhaps American Elizabeth Gray Vining, one of young Akihito’s tutors during the Occupation, has had some residual influence over the years. A review of the imperial succession law is underway by the Imperial Household Ministry. Concurrently, the Constitution too is under review by the Diet. Since age three is when training begins for a future monarch, a decision must soon be made.

In a related story of the imperial saga, the second child of Emperor and Empress Akihito and Michiko, daughter Sayako (Princess Nori), who had remained single and out of the limelight, recently announced marriage plans at age thirty-five. The wedding is expected to take place in the spring of 2005. Since Sayako’s husband-to-be is a commoner bureaucrat with the Tokyo Metropolitan Government, she will lose her imperial title under the present law. But not so her brothers, who also married commoners. (Stay tuned.)